


Son of Zorro, Take Previous

by Brigantine



Category: due South
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-22 05:36:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/234413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brigantine/pseuds/Brigantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fraser gets to know Ray's mom a little better.  (The version that did not get submitted to ds_snippets.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Son of Zorro, Take Previous

To Fraser's surprise, Mrs. Kowalski answers his knock at Ray's door.

Shifting an armload of folded bath towels, she beams at him as she steps back to let him in. "Oh hello, Benton, come right on in. Stanley's just about--"

"Fraser?" From the bathroom, Ray shouts to be heard above the noise of the shower.

Fraser hangs his Stetson on the hook by the door. "I'm sorry I'm a bit early, Ray, but Inspector Thatcher is entertaining one of the members of a Lithuanian circus troupe, specifically Lucasz, the Triple-Jointed Man, and I felt it prudent--"

Mrs. Kowalski opens the bathroom door and disappears into a cloud of steam behind it. "Stanley, I've got some clean--"

There's a high-pitched shriek, and the startled jangle of shower curtain rings. _"Mom!"_

"Oh honey, it's not like I've never seen you naked!"

"I was a _child!_ "

Mrs. Kowalski chuckles as she exits, shutting the bathroom door behind her. "Y'know Benton, Stanley was quite the nudist when he was little."

From behind the door comes a mortified, "Oh, my _God!_ Mom! Do not start down that road! Just don't!"

She eyes Fraser speculatively. "Would you like a sandwich, dear?" She shuffles Fraser out of her way with a motherly elbow.

"Oh, no, thank you, Mrs. Kowalski. I had a rather substantial lunch. You see, Constable Turnbull has been attending a Scottish cooking class..." He stands dithering near the microwave while Ray's mother begins rummaging in the refrigerator, pulling out a bewildering array of potential sandwich fixings.

"Roast beef or turkey?" Mrs. Kowalski unscrews the lid from what appears to be an industrial size jar of mayonnaise.

Fraser feels his arteries wincing.

The shower squeaks off.

Fraser elects not to fight the inevitable. "Roast beef would be lovely. Thank you kindly."

"When Stanley was little," Mrs. Kowalski continues, "during the summer he'd get terribly frustrated, what with it being so hot all the time--"

Sounds of thrashing reverberate from inside the bathroom. "Oh God! Fraser, don't listen! Do not listen!"

"--he'd just rip all his clothes right off," and here Mrs. Kowalski does a fine imitation of Ray enthusiastically divesting himself of a t-shirt, at the same time neatly avoiding blinding Fraser with a knife loaded with shockingly yellow mustard, "right down to his birthday suit, and the next thing you know, he's streaking down the sidewalk--"

"Oh God, ohgod ohgod ohgod ohgod..!"

"--Damian racing flat out after him, all the while Stanley laughing, and mooning the neighbors."

Ray bursts into the living room, his jeans riding low on his hips, his white under shirt stuck halfway down the damp skin of his chest. He stands staring aghast at his mother, his fingers plucking feebly at the bunched hem of his shirt. His damp hair appears as though it's gone through a blender.

Mrs. Kowalski hands Fraser a plate, upon which teeters a frighteningly substantial roast beef on rye. "Stanley was a speedy little guy," she tells him, and then she _winks_ at Fraser, and all sorts of things Fraser has wondered about Ray's baffling personality suddenly fall into place.

Ray scowls at him fiercely. "This is gonna get filed under Mountie Blackmail Ideas, isn't it."

Fraser observes placidly, "I believe he hasn't changed very much."

 

\--#--


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